by Casey Odell
She made her way back to the others, wringing the excess water from her hair, running her fingers through it, fighting against the knots that had accumulated. Maybe she could bargain for a comb in the next town? Although, she wasn’t sure with what exactly. Her material possessions had dwindled quite drastically lately.
The forest was quiet, the sun having just dipped below the horizon. The bath took longer than expected, but the constant check for peepers did slow the process. The campsite was a little far from the creek, on her insistence and much to Aeron’s dismay. As usual, Farron was on lookout duty and-- she hoped-- was far, far away. Even though she had barely spoken to him in nearly three days, she really didn’t need yet another misunderstanding.
A rustling noise sounded suddenly from behind her and she stopped midstride, her shoulders squaring already.
“Did you get a good look?” she asked through clenched teeth as she spun around.
The forest behind her remained empty. She glanced around for the elf. She thought for sure he was up to his old tricks. He certainly did like to sneak up on people. She stood quietly, body still, listening carefully. Nothing. She let her breath out and turned around, only to collide with the elf in question. A shriek escaped her throat and Farron clamped a hand over her mouth. His head was tilted slightly while his eyes scanned the forest around them as if he were listening to something.
Claire pried his hand from her mouth and took a step back. “Don’t do that!” She began to hit him with the purple shirt in her hands.
“Claire, wait.” He took a step towards her, his hands held up in the air in front of him to fend off the shirt attack.
“No, you stay away from me.” She held her finger up at him as she backed away from the elf. “You bring me nothing but trouble.”
She turned around and started walking. It wasn’t the way back to the camp but it was away from him, and that was a good start. It was then that a slight rumbling noise caught her ear, like a far off thunder storm. She stopped again. What was that?
“This way, my lady.” Farron rushed up behind her, grabbed her arm and pulled her along with him at a furious pace through the trees.
A few moments later, he threw his back up against a tree and pulled her close with a hand clamped tightly on her mouth. Claire’s back pressed up against him, his arm held her securely in place across her shoulders. What was it this time?
Farron inched his back along the wide trunk and peered carefully around it. Claire froze as the rumbling noise drew closer, a noise that she’ll never forget, and one that had been haunting her dreams since that dreadful night. A cold sweat instantly swept over her. It couldn’t be. She wriggled out of the elf’s grip and peeked around the tree.
A centaur burst through the trees several paces away, stopped, and reared up onto his hind legs, carrying a spear in his hands. A loud thud resonated through the air as his hooves landed on the ground again and his beady black eyes started to sweep the forest.
Claire quickly hid again, pressing her back up against the tree. Her pulse hammered in her chest as she gripped her shirt tightly in her hands. What do they do now? She looked up at Farron. He glanced around and then down to her. Surely he wasn’t thinking about running. The rumbling in the distance grew closer. There were too many of them. Perhaps he could escape them, but she knew she couldn’t. Maybe one, but not an army.
Her hand found his, partly for comfort, mostly because if he was going to run, he was taking her with him-- whether he liked it or not. He looked down at her hand, and his fingers closed around hers tight.
The low rumble slowly became a roar, the ground shook with slight tremors. Time was running out. If they ran now, they might have a chance. However her knees suggested otherwise. Her body already started to tremble. She wouldn’t even make it five steps before falling flat on her face. She almost told the elf to go, to run, to save himself, but the words never made it past her lips. As much as she’d hated holding his hand before, now it was just what she needed.
Farron turned around suddenly, his eyes moving up the tree. “Up you go,” he whispered, his voice so low she barely heard it. He grabbed her under the arms and lifted.
She gripped the branch above her head and pulled herself up, then climbed to the next branch, then the next, refusing to look down. Farron climbed onto the branch next to her and motioned for her to move closer to the trunk. She scooted carefully down and pressed her back up against it, the rough bark digging in. Farron knelt in front of her as his eyes watched the centaur below carefully.
The rumble of the herd grew closer, vibrating up the tree, into her back and through her body, mixing with the growing sense of terror that already filled her down to the tip of her toes. Her mouth became dry, like she’d downed a bucket of sand.
Claire concentrated on the elf in front of her, taking deep breaths to calm herself. There she was, stuck in a tree with Farron while the scourge of her nightmares approached underneath. And she’d thought her day was looking up.
Her eyes went wide. What about Bren and Aeron? She looked back into the forest in the direction of the camp. Farron clamped a hand down on her shoulder, turning her attention back to him. He shook his head. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the trunk and listened as the thunderous sound grew closer. And then they were upon them, the noise deafening.
Noises of individual beasts reached her ears as the herd passed by underneath: the clang of weapons on their backs, their rough voices as they shouted to each other in their harsh language, their giant hooves pounding the dirt underneath. A foul smell reached her nose and she covered it with her hand. She kept her eyes tightly shut as she fended off the memories of that night that seemed like so long ago. Her mother, the flames, the beasts.
Farron gripped her right wrist, and her eyes snapped open. A faint blue glow started around the mark on her arm. She grabbed the purple shirt she threw over her shoulder, thankful that she hadn’t dropped it on the climb up, wrapped it around her right arm and clutched it to her chest. Farron slid a hand around the back of her neck and drew her towards him. He leaned in, resting his cheek above her ear.
“It’s alright.” The whisper was barely audible above the noise.
She rested her forehead on his shoulder and clamped her eyes closed again. He began to whisper again, speaking in that soft rolling language as his hand massaged the back of her neck gently. She concentrated on the sound of his voice as she tried to drown out the rumbling from below.
After several tense moments, the thunder of hooves gradually faded into the distance. Farron grew quiet, his body still as he listened.
Claire didn’t move as she waited for her pulse to slow and the tremble in her body to ease. When it finally did, she raised her head, opening her eyes. “What was that?”
Farron tensed and pulled back. He seemed somewhat surprised. Perhaps she’d finally caught him off guard. She rested a hand on his elbow. His hand still gripped the back of her neck. When he didn’t respond, she pinched his skin.
His face twitched back to life. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he looked away, his hand dropping from her neck. “It was a chant I used to say when I was a child, to keep the evil spirits away.”
Claire’s mouth dropped. Did he just reveal something?
He scanned the forest below, avoiding her gaze as much as possible. He seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I think they’re gone.”
She shook her head to clear her mind. There were more important matters at hand. She’d just have to store the revelation away so she could tease him about it later.
“The others,” she gasped. Her eyes grew wide. Were they safe? She unwrapped her right hand from the purple shirt. The glow had subsided. That was a relief, at least.
“I’m sure they’re fine. Aeron was with him, after all.” Farron looked at her again. “Are you alright?”
“I think so.” A fine tremble still reverberated through her body, but she’d been through worse. “Tha
nk you,” she said softly.
The elf grinned in return. “I’ll just add it to the growing list.”
She sighed and swung her foot over the branch to join the other one. So he did have a list. That seemed scary all on its own. “Honestly Farron, it doesn’t hurt to open up once in a while.” She scooted off the branch and started to climb down. The elf sat unmoving on the branch above her as she dropped to the ground below.
The earth was torn up from great hooves, leaves and soil stirred together in a mash. She slipped the purple shirt on and glanced around. It probably wasn’t a good idea to call out to them, so she started to walk in the direction of the campfire, cautiously picking each step she took, her knees still feeling like jelly.
“Miss Claire.” Bren rushed through the trees, his eyes filled with concern. He embraced her in a hurry, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and crushing her against his chest. “I was worried.”
“We were able to cover the fire in time.” Aeron strolled up as he picked leaves off his shirt. “I have to say, the General here is not too bad in a pinch.”
Claire wedged a hand between her and Bren and pushed back from him to loosen the tight hold he had on her. His hands slid to her shoulders to grip her arms. It was nice to know he cared, but a girl needed to breathe.
“Do you think it’s best to stay here?” She aimed the question at Aeron.
He shrugged. “They have already passed, my lady. I do not see the harm. You get some rest, I will help keep watch.”
Claire took a deep breath. Her stomach sank as a wave of helplessness washed over her. Were the centaurs on their way to destroy yet another town? Even if they were, she was powerless to stop them. She fought the tears stinging at her eyes. Bren’s hands ran up and down her arms in an attempt to comfort her. Rest sounded good, but that was easier said than done.
17
“We have to cross that?” Claire crossed her arms.
A wide river stretched out before her. The water rushed by at a rapid pace, churning brown with mud and other debris. A small shack sat along the river’s edge accompanied by a rickety dock that extended out over the river. Four canoes sat atop the dock, their bottoms exposed to the sun. A similar shack and dock stood on the other side.
“Honestly, my lady, where is your sense of adventure?” Aeron smirked and strolled past her to stand along the bank.
“Why couldn’t they just build a bridge?” she asked.
Aeron shrugged. “You have to admit, it is a good business idea, even if it is impractical. Besides, the nearest bridge is at least half a day’s hike to the south.”
Claire looked over at the run-down building. The boards along its walls were painted bright orange to attract travelers. The sign above was painted red with the words ‘Boat Rental’ scribed in black across the top and then repeated in several different languages underneath. She wondered how many different people crossed here. How many languages were there? There was still much she didn’t know about the world.
Bren stepped out onto the rickety looking dock, testing each plank with his foot before moving on to the next one.
Farron argued-- or maybe his version of bargaining-- with a middle-aged man by the shack. The man, wearing a ragged outfit of white shirt and tan slacks, pointed towards the dock, his tanned face set in a stern scowl.
Claire walked over to the quarreling duo. She probably wasn’t the best negotiator, but maybe the man would receive her better than an angry elf.
“That’s my final price,” the man growled out. “Surely you damn fay bastards can afford it.”
Farron’s face twitched and that emotionless mask slipped into place, but Claire knew better. The comment had stung him. How could such a thing not?
“Please don’t call him that.” She stepped up to the man and he turned his angry gaze on her. “I may hate him, but that’s because of who he is, not what he is.”
They stared at each other for a few tense moments. Her hands found their way to her hips. She wasn’t going to back down. Although the elf was a thorn in her side, he didn’t deserve to be discriminated against. Nobody did.
“Now, you will give us the same price as everyone else, or so help me I will turn myself around and march down to the bridge.”
“That’s at least an extra day, little lady.”
“I’ve done more to prove a point.” She had. For three straight months she would hike across town to the other bakery after Mr. Martis said a scathing remark about her and her mother. They didn’t need his bread or his judgment. And Mother bought a lot of bread. It didn’t take him long to come crawling back, begging for their business again. “Are you willing to lose business over such a trivial matter?” She stepped closer and narrowed her eyes at him. “The same price or we walk.”
She could almost see the vein pop out of his forehead. He glanced at the elf behind her and finally yielded, “Fine.”
“Thank you,” she said with a pleasant smile and turned toward the dock to join Aeron and the General. Farron followed shortly after without saying a word.
“Well, now that that is settled.” Aeron slapped Farron on the back and pushed the elf towards Claire. “I will be escorting the prince across. You two play nice.” He turned and started toward the dock.
“Wait a minute,” Claire called after him.
Aeron spun around and leaned in close to her. “Now, now, my lady, we cannot have the prince running off with the princess, now can we? Besides,” he glanced past her shoulder to Farron, “if we stick those two in a boat together, they would end up killing each other.” He stood up straight and gave her a considering look. “Although, that would be interesting to watch…”
She opened her mouth to protest but Aeron cut her off.
“You will be fine,” he said with a final note.
Helpless, she watched as he joined Bren on the dock, picking up two paddles along the way. The elf helped Bren flip one of the canoes off the dock and into the water before he hopped in. Bren gave her a smile before he jumped down into the small boat. She let her breath out in a long sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. Just great.
“That was very noble of you, my lady.” Farron muttered near her ear before he made his way to the canoes.
Claire flushed. She hoped he didn’t get the wrong idea, sticking up for him like that.
He handed her a paddle after she joined him on the rickety dock and it felt foreign in her hands. It might have been a good time to tell him she’d never done anything like this before. She opened her mouth but stopped. He already had enough to tease her about; she didn’t want to give him any extra fodder.
She glimpsed the water in between the cracks of the wooden boards as it drifted by underneath. A splash sounded from the end of the dock as Farron flipped a canoe over into the water. He hopped down into the boat and held onto one of the pilings. His eyebrows were raised questioningly as he looked at her. Aeron and the General were almost halfway across the river. Good thing they weren’t racing.
With a deep breath, she gripped the paddle tight with both hands. She could do this. Her pulse sped up, anxious, as she approached the edge and looked down at the battered boat. It just didn’t seem sturdy.
“I think I’ll take the bridge,” she said, her voice coming out higher than usual.
“That would have been nice to know before I spent the money, my lady.” Farron sat down on the front seat. He glanced up at her after a moment, his eyes narrowing. “Could it be that you’re nervous?”
She shot him a glare. “Of course not.”
Claire slowly lowered her herself into the boat and grabbed the paddle off the dock. The canoe jerked causing her to lose her balance and she fell backwards, sitting hard on the narrow seat opposite the elf. Her hands gripped onto the sides of the canoe tight until she felt steady again.
“Ready!” she exclaimed cheerfully, trying to cover up her nervousness.
Farron turned in his seat, pushed off from the dock and stuck his paddle in the wate
r. She watched him to study how he held the paddle, the angle it dipped into the water. It didn’t look so hard. They drifted past the dock, her last chance to change her mind slipping away a little too quickly. Muddy water suddenly surrounded them like an ocean. Not that she’d ever seen the ocean, but she’d imagined that it would be somewhat similar. The lump in her throat grew steadily the further they got from solid ground. She gripped the paddle as the elf had done, stuck it in the water and pulled with her lower hand. There, that wasn’t so bad.
“My lady, this would go a lot faster if I had a little help.” Farron glanced over his shoulder at her.
Claire looked at the paddle. She thought she was helping. Was she not doing it right? Bren and Aeron drifted further away as the current carried her and Farron a little down river. That wasn’t good. She stuck her paddle into the water again and pulled with all her might. The boat turned so they were parallel to the land on either side of them.
Farron turned around in his seat and the canoe rocked back and forth. Claire dropped the paddle in her lap and quickly gripped the sides of the canoe.
“Could this, perhaps, be your first time, my lady?” The arrogant grin was already plastered on his face.
She glared at the elf. They had made it to the middle of the river. Farron stopped paddling and the current was slowly sweeping them down stream.
Claire sat up straight and grabbed her paddle again. “Do you think it’s a good idea to stop?” She began to paddle furiously on both sides in a vain attempt to straighten the canoe out. “Farron, don’t just sit there!”
The canoe swayed, more violently than before. Claire stopped and gripped the sides again, her breath escaping her in a gasp. She glanced anxiously at the water surrounding them with the paddle across her lap.
“You seem nervous, my lady,” he taunted. “Is it possible that you don’t know how to swim?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She had hoped to keep that a secret. “Well, it’s not like I had much to practice with.” Which was the truth. Her village was landlocked with only shallow creeks and ponds in the immediate vicinity. It wasn’t her fault she was deprived of the experience. She just lacked the necessary facilities.